


A Visitation

by straightforwardly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Cats, Extra Treat, Gen, Ghost!Tuuri, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: During the trek to the pick-up point, Kitty receives a surprise visit.





	A Visitation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



Brown, deadened leaves drifted slowly down from the branches alongside the occasional drip of of ice-melt. Kitty watched them keenly. 

It had been a good day. The sun’s rays—fading now—had been warm against her fur for most of the day, she’d caught a whole mouse all by herself that morning, _and_ the big not-cat had carried her half the day in his pocket. Now her not-cats had stopped for the day, setting out the soft sleeping-spot, and she’d found a tree that hadn’t lost all of its leaves yet to play with. Yes. Life was good. 

She batted at another one of the leaves as it fell, striking it down with her paw and pouncing on it. There! It was dead now. She sat back down, giving her paw a quick lick, and looked back up at the branch, waiting for the next one to fall. 

Then: 

Something shifted in the air near her, though no footsteps followed. Kitty went very still. The tree was forgotten as her eyes darted side to side. 

“Kisu?”

The soft voice came from besides her. She recognized the noise it made: it was one of the various sounds her not-cats used for her name. But none of them were nearby—all were still by the soft sleeping-place, and the warm-bad fire. 

Her fur raised.

Then _something_ touched her back. 

With a sharp wail, Kitty darted away. From behind her, the voice called out after her with a jumble of sounds. First her name again — ”Kisu!” — then something she couldn’t understand — “Wait! I-it’s me!” — before it finally cut off with a choked sob. 

Kitty scarcely heard any of it, so caught up was she in her panic. She raced across the clearing and into the hands of the first of her not-cats that she could find. It ended up being the tall one with the long fur she liked to sleep on; she liked him, and the way he listened to her and fussed over her when she wanted him to. He obeyed her now, too, gathering her up against him and making soothing sounds and petting her until she felt warm and safe again.

She could still hear the ghost, crying by the tree. It hadn’t moved. 

As she calmed, she slowly began to realize that she recognized the ghost’s voice. It was one of her not-cats—the soft round one that had been even nicer to sleep on than the tall-nice one’s long fur. Kitty had always liked her, before the day she’d started to smell _bad-wrong-dangerous_. Before she’d started to smell like the thing her mother had fought, the last time Kitty had seen her or her siblings. 

But now that she thought about it, the ghost didn’t _feel_ wrong, not like the other ghosts did. Nor had the ghost tried to chase her when she’d run. And the last time Kitty had seen her, back when the other not-cats had brought her body back, that _bad-wrong-dangerous_ smell had been gone; she’d smelled only after the dead.

And now the ghost was crying. 

Kitty whisked her tail, thinking. That was one of _her_ not-cats crying. Even if she was a ghost, Kitty didn’t like it. Her not-cats weren’t supposed to cry. They were supposed to be happy.

She made a decision, and started to wriggle in the tall-nice one’s grasp. He set her down, and she rubbed against his legs as a reward for him understanding what she wanted so quickly, before turning away and trotting back across the clearing.

She went up to the tree, sitting down besides where she could hear-feel her ghost. She looked up expectantly. 

Her ghost sniffled. “Kisu…?”

Kitty let out a soft, encouraging mew. There was a long pause. Just as she was starting to feel impatient, she felt a ghostly hand drift hesitantly against her back. She leaned into the touch, and her ghost made a choked, watery sound. 

Gently, the ghost began to stroke her fur. As the sound of her tears began to fade away, a purr started to rumble through Kitty’s chest. 

Yes, this was how things were supposed to be: her not-cats beside her, happy and petting her and content.


End file.
